Manhattan Monster Mystery
by blueruinelf
Summary: Amy Pond just wanted a weekend in New York to cool off between adventures, and hey, the TARDIS was cheaper and more efficient than air travel, right? However, when Eleven and Amy arrive on Halloween to sightsee things—of course—get out of hand.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Amy's Empire State of Mind

Amy Pond was annoyed. After the harrying ordeal that was the London Blitz AND murderous Daleks (as if one or the other wouldn't have been dangerous enough), the Doctor collapsed in exhaustion inside the TARDIS and asked her where she'd like to go next. Amy thought for a few moments, then responded:

"Well, you know how I said I was all right with the danger, just now? And saving the universe from vicious alien overlords and all that nonsense?"

"Yes. And there will be plenty more opportunities for doing that, in the past AND future, let me tell you."

"Well, before we decide to go and do…more of that, can we go to New York? Like, modern-day New York City?"

The Doctor wrinkled up his nose at her.

"New York? Now? We have all of time and space at our disposal, Amy!

He stood up in a giddy rush and began to gesticulate wildly as he paced through the TARDIS, nearly tripping over his own feet a few times.

"How about one of the Galiliean moons of Jupiter? Or some of the terraformed colony planets of the twenty-fourth-century? Or even sixteenth-century England, if you want to stay Earth-bound! You can witness a real beheading. Those are always exciting. Albeit quite messy if you're sitting too close."

"No thanks. Anyways, you forget, I haven't been all the way through the universe and back again. I hadn't even been out of Britain, when you showed up. You told me we could go anywhere I wanted, and I've always wanted to see New York. Just for a weekend! And then we can go slaughter mind-controlling aliens or whatever it is you normally do for leisure."

The Doctor couldn't help but grin widely at that, which lightened Amy's mood somewhat. His tempers could be fiery—she remembered when he exploded at her on Starship UK—but when he was cheerful he was possibly the most enjoyable company she'd ever had. Then she remembered Rory, and felt a little twinge on her heartstrings for leaving him for so long. She couldn't really compare Rory to the Doctor, though. Besides, Rory would never abandon her for twelve years…and then again! Still, the Doctor definitely had him beat in the excitement department. But they were completely different species, for goodness sakes! It's not Rory's fault he didn't have a police box that conveniently bent time and space!

Amy quieted her (only somewhat) guilty conscience long enough to hear the Doctor say:

"Fine. First New York City, then I'll take you someplace where you can really meet some mind-controlling aliens. You won't joke about them after that. Let me tell you, they're not the kind you'd want to sip umbrella drinks on the beach with."

Amy had a brief mental image of the Doctor in his full tweed jacket, bow tie, and professorial pants, sipping a tropical drink on a lounge chair on a sunny beach with sunscreen on his nose and a green bikini-clad alien at his side. It was too much to handle. She dissolved in laughter. The Doctor stared at her, confused at first, before finally laughing awkwardly along with her, despite not knowing the joke.

Unfortunately, that good mood didn't last for long.

First, the Doctor flew around for hours looking for a parking spot for the TARDIS ("New York City parking—nightmare today, nightmare three hundred years from now, nightmare always") before settling on a corner of woods way out in the middle of the Bronx. Upon emerging from the trees, it wasn't bright lights and glamorous people, but graffiti-covered slums and dirty gutters, which provided Amy's first impressions of the Big Apple. It wasn't an area of the city Amy would have liked to get lost in with a group, let alone only accompanied by the Doctor with his silly floppy hair and elbow patches. At one point, while rambling on about the poor security of parking garages, he accidentally bumped into a gigantic troll of a gangster and stepped on the man's expensive sneakers, He only scuffed them mildly, but the terrifying oaf growled throatily at him as though he was the rudest man in the galaxy. The Doctor, not understanding his meaning, simply leaned uncomfortably close to the man's face and wrinkled his brow at him.

"Speak up, sir, I can't quite hear you."

He then waved the sonic screwdriver under the man's nose, before turning to Amy. "He's clearly human, but for some reason lacking in normal speech patterns. I don't understand why."

Amy dragged him away before the angry man could respond. The Doctor might be the cleverest creature in this galaxy and the next, capable of saving the Earth from murderous alien species, but he wasn't exactly the most menacing bodyguard as he meandered through the streets, barely acknowledging changing traffic lights. Not that Amy really needed any sort of bodyguard, but still…

Upon attempting to board the subway into Manhattan the Doctor was nearly arrested for swiping that insane screwdriver instead of a fare card. Amy was sure they were going to be thrown in some high-security terrorist prison, and whom would she call to get her out? She knew what year they were in, but not the exact date, so she had no idea if she was married or not. Depending on that, calling Rory to bail her from an American prison would either be mildly awkward or mortifyingly awkward, but awkward either way.

Fortunately, the portly and mustachioed security guard who noticed the glowing blue pen-like device being used to illegally board the train was unable to wedge himself out of the tiny security booth in time to catch them, and settled for just yelling, "HEY! HEY YOU IN THE SUSPENDERS! WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING, THAT'S ILLEGAL!"

The Doctor dashed along the platform on his gangly legs and whispered to Amy, "Suspenders are braces, in case you didn't know." Amy rolled her eyes as they ducked between the closing train doors, safe and sound.

And so, with much more effort than Amy had thought would have been necessary, and a lot less fanfare, they arrived in Times Square. Amy looked up at the skyscrapers, absorbed the neon lights flashing, heard taxi horns blaring…and was nearly knocked over by some fast-moving pedestrians who were too busy talking on cell phones to notice her. Amy was delighted. THIS was exactly what she thought New York should have been like. There were more people on this square block than in her entire village.

She drank it in…for all of five minutes. Then the Doctor had decided he was hungry. Again. And so now they'd spent the last hour in a grungy American tourist-trap version of a British fish and chip shop, while she picked at some greasy chips and the Doctor downed order after order of reeking fish sticks that he dipped in the Tesco custard cups he had taken to carrying in his coat pockets for convenience.

Amy sighed. She had assumed that in a city generally considered to be the center of the world, exciting and possibly even historical moments would be occurring every minute. She found herself longing for those mind-controlling aliens…or at least some shopping on Fifth Avenue. Anything but this smelly shop full of silly children who couldn't chew with their mouths closed—the Doctor included.

The Doctor noticed her dissatisfaction and looked up, mouth full of disgusting fish custard.

'What ish it, Ahmy? I brot 'oo to New Yok, 'idn't I?"

He swallowed his food and looked at her with wide, earnest eyes. Amy didn't let herself be suckered in. She let him have it.

"Yes, Doctor. After an unnecessarily dangerous trip from the furthest corner of the city, you brought me to a grimy fish and chip shop, which we could have easily done back home in Leadworth and for much less money! I want to actually DO something now! Like, go up the Empire State Building--

"Overrated. The view from the capital building on Xenon Seven is much more impressive—"

"Or walk through Central Park—"

"The criminals that hang out there are as hostile as Daleks. Well, that's not quite true—"

"Or at least get something nice at Bloomingdales—

'Shopping! You come to America and you want to go shopping?! Typical humans. You can shop anywhere, you know. You can shop on the moon, for goodness sakes. Well, in a couple of centuries, anyways."

Amy crossed her arms and slouched grouchily in her seat, fully aware she was acting like a little girl, but since the Doctor had known her as a little girl that this should be nothing new for him.

"Doctor. You're nine hundred years older than me, correct?

"Hmm, approximately, yes."

"Then stop making me act like your mum! Finish your nasty food so we can get out of here. Or you'll go straight to the TARDIS and bed."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at her and shoved the entire half a dozen fish sticks left in his paper tray in his mouth at once. He crossed his arms and slouched in perfect imitation of Amy. A stare-down commenced…but was interrupted when a little boy at the table next door began to giggle.

"Mommy, look! I want to dip my fish sticks in pudding too!"

"No sweetie, that's gross. It's rude to mix strange foods in public places, and it's rude to stick that much food in your mouth at once too. Don't look at him."

Amy snorted with laughter. So did the Doctor, though the fish sticks in his mouth made it a little more difficult. So instead he rapidly gnawed and chewed at them like a beaver tearing down branches, much to the delight of the boy and the disgust of his mother.

As the Doctor and Amy stepped back out into the multitudes of people and vehicles hurrying through Times Square, Amy had just one request:

"Please, let's go somewhere nicer for dinner."

"We could go back to Leadworth and have tea with your aunt."

"No thanks."

The Doctor grinned…then his smile faded. His eyes were focused intently on something far ahead of him.

"Doctor, what is it?" Amy's voice trailed off as she followed his gaze…over to a pair of green tentacle monsters bobbing up and down on the next corner. One was much shorter than the other and had linked tentacles with it as they bobbed down the street. The Doctor whipped out the sonic screwdriver and, holding it aloft to protect to from potential muggers, dashed through traffic towards the suspicious creatures. Amy darted after him.

The crowds in Times Square were so dense that Amy could barely keep track of the Doctor's head bouncing up and down above the mostly-shorter people that kept crossing in front of her as she zigzagged through. As she reached the end of the block, the lights changed and an enormous double-decker tour bus blocked her view entirely. Amy blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and shifted from one leg to the other, trying to find an alternate means of making it across the street. She looked up at news stream that scanned along the wall of one building, and noticed the date:

October 31st.

The first thing Amy realized was that this was after her hypothetical wedding, so keeping out of touch with anyone remotely connected to home would be a good idea…though fairly easy, as people from Leadworth hardly ever went further than Gloucester, or occasionally Cheltenham if they were feeling really adventurous. So unless they ended up on the global news, she should be safe.

The second thing Amy realized only hit her after she noticed a person pass her dressed as Dorothy, accompanied by a Scarecrow and a Tin Man. Across the street, a vampire checked his watch. A really poor Sherlock Holmes costume caught her eye, mainly because from far away he could have been mistaken for the Doctor. It was still relatively early in the afternoon, so there weren't too many people in costumes yet…nonetheless, Amy had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

The light changed and Amy ran as fast as her legs could carry her, screaming at the top of her lungs, "Doctor! Doctor! It's Halloween! It's a costume! It's only a Halloween costume!"

Amy screeched to a stop as she finally came to an open space in the sidewalk…only to find the Doctor helping up a small crying boy, dressed as a green octopus, with a skinned knee. Several bystanders milled about, shooting horrified glasses at the tweed-clad man who had apparently ran straight into the boy and knocked him to the pavement, then waved a glowing silver wand at his head before realizing what he had done.

"Sorry, sorry, didn't realize it was a costume, thought you were someone I knew…"

The boy's father, also dressed as an octopus, pulled the boy into his arms and gave the Doctor one last threatening glance before hustling his (still bawling) son away. The Doctor looked at Amy innocently.

"He looked quite suspicious, from far away."

"I'm sure he did."

"I didn't realize it was Halloween."

"So I've noticed."

"It was quite a realistic costume, though, for someone who has probably never laid eyes on a giant green squid from the dark side of Venetia Five."

"I'm sure it was."

The two of them stood on the corner awkwardly before the Doctor clapped his hands.

"Want to climb the Empire State Building, then?"

"Sounds good."

The Doctor hailed a cab with the hand holding the sonic screwdriver. Amy noticed that the device also seemed to have the magical capability of getting a cabbie to zoom up immediately to them, skipping various other disgruntled customers. Amy nodded, pleased. Random, but nice.

They hopped in. The Doctor wasted no time in giving their destination.

"Empire State Building. As snappy as you can."

The taxi driver turned around. His skin was an unnatural sallow green. He smiled a menacing smile and removed his sunglasses. His eye sockets were black and hollow behind them. The sonic screwdriver began whirring and glowing like it had gone mad. A hissing voice came from the taxi-driving creature's mouth.

"Well, you must be the famous Doctor."

The Doctor's eyes widened…just as a long, lizard-like tongue snapped out of the driver's mouth and through the money slot in the Plexiglas barrier, snatching the screwdriver out of the Doctor's hands. The Doctor's response didn't seem to be quite appropriate:

"Well, I don't know who you are, but that was rude."

Amy was overwhelmed with a plethora of feelings right then: tired, confused, scared…she didn't know what else to do. She screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Taxicab Confessions…and Collisions

Amy Pond was many things: stubborn, feisty, a little temperamental…one thing she was most definitely not was a damsel in distress. When Amy Pond was in distress she took action and kicked whatever was causing her that distress firmly in the arse. Especially if that was an over-eager Kiss-o-Gram customer (it was called a Kiss-O-Gram…not a…you-know!-o-gram). Yet at the moment, in that yellow taxicab, she felt a significant amount of distress weighing on her chest. And the only action that came to mind was to scream.

So she screamed. A lot. So much that both the creepy monster driving the cab and the Doctor stared at her open-mouthed for about a whole second before the Doctor threw himself at the tiny broken opening in the glass separating the passengers from the driver. He was going to fight like a madman (which, come to think of it, he was) for that tool of his.

The cab turned onto Broadway and swerved onto a curb, causing crowds of pedestrians to jump out of the way screaming as loudly as Amy. A businessman sipping coffee and walking with his head in a newspaper accidentally spilt the boiling beverage on him as the taxi careened towards him and in a fury tossed his paper at the cab in anger. With the windshield now mostly obscured by the New York Times entertainment section, the vehicle became even more out of control.

Meanwhile, the Doctor had succeeded in wriggling his torso into the front seat of the cab and was now stuck. Kicking with his legs to push himself through, he kept nearly kicking Amy in the face. The alien's tongue kept smacking him in the face with the sonic screwdriver, which didn't help matters at all. As he tried to snatch the tool from the slippery proboscis, the alien kept hissing insults at him.

"Ach, ssss! Stupid meddler! I've heard the stories about you! You can't stop us! We will succeed in taking over New York and revenging ourselves upon the human race!"

"What do you mean? I'm not here to stop anyone! I'm trying to have a lovely holiday with my companion!"

Amy stopped screaming long enough to snort sarcastically at his choice of descriptor and to give him a huge push. The Doctor tumbled into the front seat headfirst, kicking the alien in the head and pressing him against the ceiling with his heel. Amy, now recovered from her initial shock, squirmed her way into the fray and wrestled the steering wheel away from the monster, though not before earning several deep red scratches from the creature's jagged yellow fingernails on her arm as a prize. She began to drive with her lower half still partially suspended in the space between the front and back seats. The Doctor kept using his foot to repeatedly kick the throat and choke the air out of the driver, forcing him to open his mouth again and unroll his now-limp tongue. Snatching the screwdriver away, the Doctor screamed:

"Turn now, Amy!"

Amy swerved the car dramatically and turned—the wrong way down a one-way street. "What are you doing?" the Doctor demanded in a panic. "Sorry! Its not my fault stupid Americans drive on the wrong side of the road!" Amy shrieked.

Everyone—the Doctor, Amy, and even the alien creature—screamed in terror as incoming traffic came straight at their faces, before the Doctor seized the moment, grabbed Amy around the waist, threw open a door, and hurled them out of the moving vehicle. The monster remained trapped inside—and was flattened by a collision with a grocery supply truck. Vegetables and alien matter went everywhere in quite the disgusting fireworks display.

The two of them sighed in relief and lay on the pavement for a moment. The Doctor squeezed Amy's hand, looked into her eyes, and gave a short laugh of relief. Amy did the same. For the first time all day she could honestly say she wouldn't have wanted anyone else at her side at that moment. Of course, if it had been anyone else, this moment wouldn't be happening in the first place, but that was beside the point. They basked in their escape for a moment before the sound of sirens began to grow loud and close, signaling that it was time to rush away from the scene of the crime.

Amy dropped the Doctor's hand as they purposefully speed-walked through the streets, smoothing their hair and attempting to look casual. Now was not the time to linger, for she was full to the brim of her ginger head with questions.

"Doctor? What was that?"

"I have no idea."

They took another turn and the Doctor paused to look up.

"Oh, look. Empire State Building."

Amy looked up and gasped at the gleaming silver behemoth. To think, she nearly died right before getting to see it. The Doctor put his arm around her as they stood below, looking up in awe and wonder.

"Seen it dozens of times over the centuries and it never stops looking impressive."

"I thought Xenon Fifty was more impressive."

"Xenon Five. And the view there is more impressive. The building itself isn't nearly as aesthetically pleasing, though."

Amy turned to him, unable to put the events that had just transpired out of her mind.

"You seriously have no idea? I thought you knew everything there was to know about everything. You at least act like you do!"

"Well, I have some ideas. A few small smatterings of thought. I just need to clear my head and SORT THEM ALL OUT!"

Each of those last words was articulated with great effort as the Doctor gesticulated frantically around his head, as though literally trying to draw the answer out of the thin air surrounding his brain. Suddenly, he pointed straight in front of them with great purpose.

"Amy. Look."

Amy scanned the crowd around her and felt a lump in her throat when she noticed a figure in dark glasses. This wouldn't be unusual if it weren't for that fact that the figure also appeared to have sallow green skin, which no one else seemed to notice since coordinated with the fact that he was wearing a rather ridiculous caterpillar costume. Still, there was no mistaken those fingernails. Or the slithery tongue that licked his thin lips in delight as he noticed another one of his people approaching him. This one was distinctly female, dressed as the Wicked Witch of the West, and walking briskly from the direction that they themselves had just come. The direction of the accident. And she did not look pleased. A pit formed in Amy's stomach as the two conversed rapidly, because there was a word she could most definitely read on their lips:

"The Doctor."

Amy turned to the subject in question. "You know, I thought your little laser-pen-thingy—"

"Sonic screwdriver."

'Yes. I thought one of its random powers was to help summon cabs, and that's why that one came so quickly. Now I know better."

The Doctor nodded.

"He recognized it. It let him know I was here, and it made him properly scared enough to try and snuff me out. Which is flattering, I must say, but the notion that he could succeed in doing so on his own was quite preposterous."

"Clearly he managed to let some of the others know you're here, though, however many there are. What other Doctor could they possibly be referring to?"

The Doctor paused for a moment, then snapped his fingers as he deduced a likely reason for his presence being known:

"He probably had the radio on in the taxi. If he could get a job as a cab driver, I'm sure some of his comrades did as well. It would make communication and navigation of the city quite easy. Besides, most New Yorkers assume that cab drivers are all foreigners anyways. Probably didn't notice that this guy and his friends are clearly more foreign than most."

He paused for a moment before continuing, not removing his eyes from the still-conversing aliens.

"On the plus side, if that creature hadn't seen me and tried to kill me, I wouldn't have known about their plans in the first place! The question is—exactly what plans are those?"

At that moment the aliens turned and strode off briskly through the crowd. The Doctor turned to Amy.

"You should go up and enjoy the view. This is your big New York City trip and you've barely seen any of the sights! I can come get you later."

"Hah! Fat chance, Doctor. I said I was up for the danger, and if danger is upon us, then I'm going to be there with you. Besides, I'm sure it's no Xenon Five."

She smiled at him, to reassure him that she was up for the challenge, but the Doctor just eyed her arm warily. Amy followed his gaze and noticed that the scratches on her arm from the taxi driver's claws were swollen and turning a ghastly shade of mottled purple around the edges.

"Oh, come on Doctor, it's only a flesh wound!"

He hesitated, then grinned and hugged her enthusiastically.

"That's my Amelia! Now let's go!"

They hustled off through the crowd, making sure to keep the caterpillar's antennae and the witch's hat within their sights. At one point the doctor spied a neat brown fedora on someone else's head and swiped it, jamming it down over his unruly hair as they moved. Amy didn't ask why—after all, it was a good look for him, though it made him look even more like he had walked straight out of the 1930s. Good thing it was Halloween. People were staring at his bow tie and braces much less than usual under the assumption it was a costume.

They kept bearing south and west, towards the Hudson River, until the water was within their sights. The streets were growing greyer and emptier. The Doctor and Amy were forced to be as quiet and stealthy as possible since there were fewer passersby to blend in with. It didn't help when some people they did run into—a group of three greasy young men about Amy's age—decided that she was not going to pass by unnoticed. Whistles, catcalls, and obnoxious kissing noises ensued.

"Hey pretty baby, what's a nice-looking girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"Mmm, look at those legs, I'd like a piece of those!"

"Give us a smile, sexy--

Amy knew she should ignore them, but this was ridiculous, and she'd had a rough day. She spun around and gave them a piece of her mind.

"No self-respecting woman is going to EVER smile at you if you treat them like a bloody piece of meat!

This didn't help matters.

"Ooh, nice accent baby! You not from around here, are you? Where you from? Is that England? No, it's Ireland, right? You're totally Irish! Look at her hair"

The Doctor chose that moment to appear at her shoulder. Observing her change in complexion, he noted, "Your face has turned the exact same color as your hair. That cannot be good for your blood pressure." Needless to say, the tough guys didn't know quite what to make of him.

"Who's this guy, then? Is he your teacher of something? He can't possibly be your boyfriend. He looks like some kind of dweeby professor."

The Doctor got in their faces

"I'm not a professor, I'm the Doctor. But if you don't leave her alone, I'll give you a reason to see a Doctor. Because I will cause you a great deal of pain."

The guys exchanged glances and burst into laughter.

"The Doctor? What is that supposed to even mean? Doctor who?"

While the greasers were distracted by their own not-too-sharp wit, Amy and the Doctor noticed their quarry at the far end of the block. They appeared to be opening a grate in the street. Five seconds later, they had disappeared into the underground labyrinth of the sewers and the subway tunnels. Amy and the Doctor went to follow, but not before Amy gave the guys one last piece of her mind.

"It's Scotland. And there, men treat women they way they're supposed to—like human beings! Not like rubbish you pick up at the side of the road!"

With that, she and the Doctor turned their backs on them and ran to the subway grate.

"Why is it that everyone in this city is either a murderous alien or just plain rude?"

"Survival instincts. Which you were clearly lacking at that moment by causing unnecessary commotion," the Doctor snapped as he pried the grate open and bowed in a huff before Amy. "Ladies first, then? For politeness sakes?"

Amy didn't stop to argue. She leapt down into the darkness and fell with a disgusting thump and a splash into a pile of soggy garbage. The Doctor immediately followed, clutching his newfound hat to his head. Amy opened her mouth to exclaim in disgust— but the Doctor immediately placed a finger to her lips. They listened closely; apart from the steady drip of water from the ceiling, the occasional scurry of some kind of unsavory rodent, and the distant rumble of trains, they could hear the sound of echoing footsteps and hissing conversation heading away from them down the tunnel. The two of them stood together, clasping hands to avoid getting lost in the near-pitch darkness, and proceeded into the depths of the New York underworld.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Subway

Amy Pond knew exactly what Bilbo Baggins must have felt like when he escaped hordes of goblins only to end up in Gollum's shadowy lair, for she too was wandering blindly through tunnels without any knowledge of her destination or what she'd end up facing when she got there. Only she was much better off than the hobbit protagonist of one of her favorite childhood tales, for at least she wasn't alone. The Doctor led her sure-footedly through the mire and gloom. They kept close enough to follow the alien couple and catch snippets of their conversation without being seen or heard themselves. The male spoke first:

"Ach, ssss, see, Brodda, this Doctor, he's soft on humanity. Always cavorting around the galaxy with one human girl or another, putting other races on the line to save planet Earth. He's automatically going to take their side. So he's automatically our enemy."

"But Mablung shouldn't have risked our entire plan to take out one measly Time Lord! Months and months of planning and effort, and we'll need as many hands as possible to succeed. And we need to. I'm tired of living in such squalor, beneath the feet and amongst the refuse of humans!"

"It doesn't matter. The wheels are in motion. One less body won't make a difference and neither will this Doctor, once we get inside the party. We'll have all the most powerful city officials, right within our grasp!"

The male creature clenched his claws and hissed in triumph and enthusiasm. A sea of skittering feet could be heard coming towards them.

"Ach, ssss, sounds like dinner!"

He swooped his claws down, snatched a rat in each hand from the pack that swarmed over their feet in the tunnel, and soundly broke their necks. He handed one to his female companion.

"Fresh, yes! Much better than ones that have been sitting in the traps for three days!"

Amy didn't need any additional light to figure out what was coming next, and thinking about it made her nearly throw up. She would take on hoards of aliens before she'd voluntarily let a rat touch her. Thank God for her tall boots protecting her legs and feet from the frightened horde of rodents fleeing the hungry aliens or the sound of her retching in disgust would definitely give them away. And now would be the worse time, for another pair of feet could be heard approaching in the dark.

"Ah, it's you, Grug. Did you get more costumes?"

"Ach, ssss, yes, Lieutenant Arog! They're all compatible with our natural complexions. No one will be the wiser when we arrive at the party. Come, finish eating, we must report to the Captain."

Arog, Brodda, and Grug continued on with increased purpose as the tunnel sloped down slightly, the Doctor and Amy still keeping at a relatively safe distance. Suddenly, the tunnel opened up into a wider and more cavernous area. Amy halfway expected to see an underground lake and Gollum lurking on a rock with his Precious. Instead, through the gloom, she could make out that it was an area where several different train lines passed through. Where they had previously been skirting one lane of track, now they were amongst four different sets of rails…and dozens more aliens. Shacks and lean-tos were constructed anywhere there was space out of various discarded odds and ends. The creatures were lining up in front of their respective homes, neatly folding their hands behind their back, as though waiting for inspection of some sort. It looked like a bizarre underground alien version of a refugee camp.

In the center of the village stood one alien wearing a strange black military-style uniform pinned with assorted badges. He was much more muscular and outwardly threatening looking that the majority of his gaunt, skinny comrades, and had an aura that clearly designated him as the Captain in question. The three aliens they had been shadowing came to a halt in front of him, bowed, and saluted. The captain spoke, in a deep, throaty hiss that was simultaneously terrifying and strangely charismatic.

"Ah, Grug, you've obtained the rest of the costumes."

"Yes, Captain. But we also have some less fortunate news. Lieutenant Arog and Brodda have just reported that Mablung has been killed."

"How?"

"Traffic collision…his cab got out of control. But what's most problematic is the reason why...he was struggling with the Doctor."

The Captain hissed angrily.

"Ach, ssss! Do not tell anyone else this piece of information, do you hear? If anyone asks what happened to Mablung, say he crashed when a customer tried to rob him. It would not be the first time. Everything else must go according to plan, no changes. And certainly no fuss over a interfering Time Lord."

"Yes, sir."

The captain cleared his throat as the three remaining aliens took their place amongst the waiting crowd. The cavern grew silent as he began to speak with verve and confidence. Amy and the Doctor tucked themselves behind a support pillar and listened.

"Humans. They think they're so powerful. So powerful that they take great joy in squashing others under their heels. Especially those less fortunate. Like a small party of wounded Glaurungian soldiers that happened to crash through their atmosphere into the river. All we wanted was safe entry and permission to recuperate and contact the empire. And did we get that?"

"No!"

"No! We did not! They accused us of conspiracy! Of attempting to attack! And what did they do!"

"Banished us!"

"They banished us to their sewers to rot like yesterday's garbage. That's all other species are to the human race. But tonight, we will prove them wrong. We will gain entry to the Mayor's Masquerade Ball. We will take him and the rest of the city officials who treated us with such disgust hostage! And we'll use their technology to finally contact the empire's flagship! Only this time, it will not for rescue. What will we do?"

"We'll destroy them!"

"Yes! We'll use the total firepower of the Glaurungian Empire to turn Manhattan into a desert fit for no human to live! And when we've ground them into the gutters, and forced them down into the sewers to live, they'll be sorry they wronged us in the first place."

The underground chamber shook with thunderous applause. The Doctor took this moment to whisper to Amy.

"I can't believe it! All of this over a simple case of intergalactic illegal immigration! They couldn't come into the city, so instead they're going to destroy it!"

"It won't work, will it?"

The applause began to fade but the chamber kept trembling. A distant rumble could be heard. Voices began to shout out orders. The Captain sniffed the air. The Doctor answered Amy's anxious query:

"It depends on how quickly their signal gets through once they take the hostages. It's possible it won't be quick enough and they'll be crushed by human police or military before their empire's support arrives. But them taking control of that party, if nothing else, is highly possible…and if they do, hundreds of people might still die. And that signal of theirs could summon who knows what else to Earth. This plan cannot be allowed to succeed to even the slightest degree. Disaster will be the only result. "

The rumble grew louder as the lean-tos were quickly packed up and shunted out of sight.

"But what can we do to stop fifty-something angry illegal aliens? We don't even have the TARDIS!"

Headlights began flashing behind them. The Captain began to growl again in a voice that echoed throughout the tunnel, even as the rumbling grew deafening.

"I SMELL BLOOD! I SMELL HUMAN BLOOD! INTRUDERS!"

Amy looked at her cuts, which had swollen to the point of bursting and were freshly bleeding again. She gasped and tried to cover them up as the Captain stomped towards their hiding spot, sniffing the air. As the tunnel lit up, The Doctor turned around and fully absorbed the nature of what was going on.

"The train! We have to get away from the train!"

He grabbed Amy and lunged out of the way of the oncoming train as they were lit up brilliantly in its headlights…only to throw themselves directly in front of the Captain. Amy had a brief moment of eye contact, if you could call those bottomless black pits in his face eyes. He snarled and licked his thin lips with that ghastly tongue. Amy and the Doctor began to run in the opposite direction, attempting to keep pace with the passing train. The Doctor pulled out the sonic screwdriver and pointed it at a set of doors.

Nothing happened. He shook it and tried again. Still nothing. "Oh, now is not the time!" he roared, before hitting it on a column and trying again. The doors flew open. Passengers screamed. And the Doctor and Amy lunged inside, relatively safe and sound. Amy took one final glance out the back window and saw the Captain disappear into the void…but the look of pure venom that he gave the departing train made her shudder to her very core. She knew he would remember her face.

As they stood up, out of breath and covered in garbage, with Amy's scratches bleeding profusely, the nearly full car just eyed them suspiciously and gripped their belongings tightly. At the next stop, several of them hastily made an exit. Amy didn't mind if they all wanted to get away from her, since it meant seats were freed up so she and the Doctor could sit down for the first time since their fish custard luncheon in Times Square. The Doctor spoke first.

"Now the Captain knows what we both look like. And what your blood smells like! This is not good."

"Doctor, have you forgotten something? It's Halloween! The party they plan on crashing is a Masquerade Ball! Everyone will be in disguise, even the aliens. And so will we. Dressing up in absurd outfits is kind of my specialty, in case you don't remember."

"Right. I still don't quite get the point of a Kiss-o-Gram, to be honest. What kinds of parties are these, where they order a girl in costume to kiss people?"

"All the galaxy you've traveled and you still don't understand how that could be amusing for some? What else do we have to do in Leadworth?"

"It just all seems rather silly."

"That's the point, Doctor!"

"No point in it at all, then. Anyways, were we talking about your job or mine? Because mine appears to be, oh, you know, saving your silly human race yet again!"

The Doctor's voice grew loud and angry during this last bit, attracting a little too much attention from the remaining discomforted train passengers. He attempted to gloss it over.

"Sorry, everybody, sorry. Been a bit of a stressful day."

"Are you going to apologize for insulting me?"

"You're part of everybody. Anyways, like I said, this saving humanity business has become old hat for me. I did just save the entire planet from Daleks. Not for the first time, either. How hard can protecting one island from a bunch of subterranean homesick aliens be?"

He paused and looked at Amy, who had her eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Don't answer that. Let's outline the night's festivities. First step-costumes. Next step-figure out time and place of mayor's party. Third step-to be determined once we take care of one and two."

"But involves crashing the party in some aspect, I assume."

"Oh, of course. Hopefully with back-up, if we can find it. I'd like to warn the Mayor and his people before the aliens reveal themselves so that maybe we can avoid the whole violent hostage-taking situation and arrange a compromise. Yet the main thing that bothers me about the whole situation is that I don't understand how these Glaurungians could have landed in New York, met with city officials, and been shunted out into the sewers without anyone else even noticing they'd arrived! You think that other people would have seen something, or that the government would have contacted some authority in alien matters to help negotiate, like, I don't know, me! Or at least—"

The Doctor trailed off. His eyes slowly lit with that fire behind them that Amy knew by now could only signify one thing.

"At least who? Who would the people of New York contact if they had an alien invasion, besides you? The X-Files team?"

The Doctor looked at her as though she had completely lost her mind.

"Don't reference that abysmal program in my presence ever again. Completely absurd. The people I have in mind are much better than the bloody X Files team."

The train stopped at West Fourth Street. As the doors dinged open, the Doctor hopped up in excitement and flew out without answering or waiting for Amy. She elbowed her way through the other passengers and followed him up the steps and back above ground.

It was growing dusky in downtown Manhattan, but the streetlights and storefronts were cheerily lit—a welcome refresher after spending so much time in the perpetual midnight of the subway tunnels. The Doctor sniffed the air with delight.

"Ah, fresh air again! Well, relatively speaking. Anyways, I need a phone booth."

He ran off, Amy calling after him sarcastically, "I know where one is. Stranded in the woods in the Bronx, where it can be of absolutely no help to us whatsoever."

The Doctor tore an affectionate couple dressed as cave-people from the shelter of a nearby phone booth, gave a few brief comments about impropriety and dressing for the weather, then pulled out the sonic screwdriver and waved it over the keypad. He picked up the receiver.

"It should connect me straight to the person I need right now, no matter where they are. Fortunately. I'm pretty sure I know where—well, hello old friend!"

He paused.

"Who do you think? It's the Doctor! Yes, new voice, new face, all of that stuff, you know the drill. Anyways, I seem to recall hearing you were going to be in New York on a bit of company business?"

He winked at Amy, who hadn't the foggiest idea why.

"I thought so! Well, as fate would have it, so am I. And I need your help."

"The voice on the other end of the line got excited, but Amy couldn't tell who they were or what they were saying. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I did just admit that. Glory in it for the moment, because it won't happen again any time soon. Where can I find you? Well, isn't that convenient. We'll be there shortly. Don't go anywhere!"

He hung up the phone and turned to her, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

"Okay, now, Miss Pond, you finally get to do your shopping!"

"Oh yes, a trashy fancy dress shop. That's totally the same as Fifth Avenue."

And so they ducked into first costume shop they saw. It was full to bursting with last-minute shoppers and the selection was mostly picked over. Amy tossed items aside in disgust.

"I really wish I had my Kiss-o-Gram wardrobe here, right now. This stuff is rubbish. Who dresses up as a giant hot dog anyways?"

"People who like hot dogs. Stop being so judgmental of people's eating habits, Amy. There are species that don't appreciate only eating tea and chips and vinegar. Like most species."

"Whatever. How about this one?"

She threw a pipe, a cape, and a deerstalker hat at him.

"You've already got Sherlock Holmes' complicated mind and weird habits. Now you can have his funny hat, too"

"I like my hat better."

After much hurried searching, Amy found a short beaded flapper-style dress that was paired with a feathered headband and a long strand of fake pearls. She'd have to keep her boots on, but considering they might end up in the sewers again—or worse—that was probably a good idea. For the Doctor, a fake shoulder holster with toy pistols and a trench coat thrown over his patchy blazer transformed him into a bootlegging gangster of the 1930s. One more stop at a chemists' to bandage Amy's arm—and grab some candy, for after all, it was Halloween—and they were good to move on to the next step of their very loosely constructed plan.

Fully attired in their period garb, the pair strolled down Bleeker Street, looking for the location of the Doctor's mysterious friend. Most of the bars lining the block were populated by weird hipster kids from the nearby university, some of who were not down for the Halloween spirit of wearing a costume but all of whom were down to get copiously drunk. The Doctor turned up his nose at the ensemble of one young man who was checking out Amy's short flapper dress with much interest.

"Look at him, trying to be a tough guy with his leather jacket and his Converse. Such a cliché! You wouldn't see me wearing that stuff…"

He paused as though recollecting something that had slipped back into the recesses of his crowded mind, then cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Well, not together, anyways."

He halted abruptly to a stop outside the silliest looking pirate themed bar on the street…which, Amy noticed, seemed to really have an abnormal concentration of pirate themed bars on it. Creativity was truly lacking in this town, she thought.

"Ah, he'll be here, then."

"This is where our magical back-up is hanging out? A cheesy pirate bar named…Wicked Willie's? You've got to be kidding me!"

The Doctor ignored her and strolled confidently into the packed bar like he owned the place. Amy reluctantly followed, edging her way through the revelers towards the bar. The Doctor came to a stop directly behind the back of a man who was sipping a martini and entertaining some scantily clad girls with a story that was clearly hilarious—or they were just too drunk to care. The Doctor smiled and cleared his throat.

"Looks like someone hasn't lost their charm since I saw them last."

The stool rotated to reveal one of the most cartoonishly handsome men Amy had ever laid eyes on. He looked as though he had been the model for several Disney princes over the years, what with his perfect cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, and charming smile. He was wearing a long military coat that looked like it was from the 1940s. Amy had a sneaking suspicion that like the Doctor, this wasn't a costume, but his actual apparel. Not that she had a problem with it—it was quite dashing. Much more dashing than a bow tie.

The strange gentleman's face lit up upon seeing the Doctor. He spoke in a smooth American accent that carried in its tones an ego at least as big as the Doctor's own.

"Obviously not, Doctor! What do you take me for?"

He slapped him on the back the way one would greet a long-absent brother, sloshing some drink on the Doctor in the process, who winced and attempted to dry his coat with a napkin, but didn't stop smiling. Clearly these two had an extensive past. As the man planted a smack on the Doctor's mouth, she couldn't help but wonder in what capacity. The girls he had been previously entertaining, slightly put off by this new development, slinked away, one mumbling to her friend, "All the best looking guys in New York, I swear! It's just not fair!" The man hadn't noticed, however—he was too busy catching up with the Doctor.

It's good to see you again, though a bit surprising to find you here in New York!"

"Yeah, well, I was a little thrown off by the turn of events myself."

The man grabbed the Doctor by the chin as though he were going to kiss him again, but instead tilted his face from side to side, examining his features.

"Ah, so this is what they stuck you with this time! He lifted the Doctor's stolen fedora and tousled his hair before slamming it back on. "Still not ginger, I see. Though this lovely lady most definitely is."

He toasted Amy with his martini and took a sip. As ridiculously cheesy as this man's entire demeanor was, Amy couldn't help but blush. He grinned and winked.

"Well, Doctor, aren't you going to introduce us?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Amelia Pond…meet Captain Jack Harkness."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Don't Rain On Their Parade

Amy Pond was confused. She had been under the impression that they were under a time crunch to save arguably one of the most important cities in the world from vengeful aliens, yet the Doctor and Captain Jack—what exactly he was Captain of, she still had no idea—had been sitting for about a half an hour at the bar, reminiscing about adventures gone by. Turns out Jack had known the Doctor under two of his previous guises, and noted, "This one's much younger than those, and more awkward to be sure, but I'd say it's one of your better looks."

Amy cleared her throat. "I thought we were finding your friend the Captain here so he could help us, not so you guys could get drunk together like two university boys and coo over each other's good looks."

"Ah, so you think I'm good looking then!" The Doctor crowed triumphantly.

"Yeah, but not as good looking as me." Jack said, with a sip of his third martini since they'd arrived, and who knows how many total for that evening. The Doctor couldn't help but shrug in helpless agreement, then begin to sum up their adventures thus far.

"Okay, okay, in all seriousness, Jack, we came to New York so Amy could see the sights, but things got a little out of hand."

"Which is to be expected when it you're concerned. What happened this time?"

"Yes. Well. To summarize, we got in a cab with an alien driver who tried to kill me, crashed it into a vegetable truck, then followed his friends down into the sewers only to find out that they're plotting to take the mayor hostage, contact some firepower, and flatten the city as revenge of mankind."

Jack stopped mid-sip and stared at him.

"You're not serious."

"I just said 'in all seriousness,' didn't I? No one at Torchwood has heard anything about a ship of wounded soldiers from the Glaurungian Empire crashing near Manhattan, have they?"

"Not a word. We've only recently become aware that the Glaurungian Empire even exists, and that's only because they're currently at war…but that's light-years away. I don't now what they'd be doing in this sector. I've only just gotten back to Earth recently, to scout around for an American branch of Torchwood, but this is the first concrete evidence I've had of any recent alien activity since I've arrived."

Amy chose this moment to interrupt. "Torchwood? What's Torchwood? Doctor, you haven't mentioned Torchwood."

Jack was astonished. "Doctor, you haven't had the decency to acknowledge Torchwood? For shame." He turned to Amy. "Torchwood is an agency founded by Queen Victoria to investigate alien activity and phenomenon and use their technology to better the British Empire. It's funny that the Doctor wouldn't have mentioned it…considering that HE was the one who instigated her paranoia regarding extraterrestrial life."

Amy turned to the Doctor, astonished. "Queen Victoria? You've met Queen Victoria?"

The Doctor sipped some ale and puckered his face in distaste, then nodded. "Yup. Was banished from the empire and everything. Course, you can see how that worked out."

Jack continued, "We've had branches of Torchwood in England, Scotland, Wales, even India…but we haven't established ourselves as a presence in America just yet. Didn't think there was a need. However, from what you've told me it sounds like it's none too soon."

"So there's no one else stationed here right now?"

"Nada. Just yours truly."

The Doctor looked slightly worried.

"Right. This is not the outcome that I had hoped for. No offense, Captain, but as capable as one of you is, more of you would be better."

"Yes, Doctor, but you forget one thing. There is only one me. No one else comes close. So really, if you were going to have one me, I would be that me. Now—"

Jack looked around and grabbed a three-corner hat from the head of a young man dressed like Johnny Depp's character in Pirates of the Caribbean. Said young man was too busy entertaining Jack's disenchanted cast-off ladies and didn't even notice.

"Captain Jack's costume…is Captain Jack. And both Captain Jacks…are at your service."

He bowed to Amy and kissed her hand, sloshing the remains of his martini on the ground. Amy grinned. "I thought there was only one of you."

Jack laughed. "I like this one, Doctor! She's a witty one."

"That's enough from you. No more drinking tonight."

They stepped outside onto Bleecker Street, which was even more crowded with costumed revelers. The Doctor pulled out the sonic screwdriver.

"Now, going by our hypothesis that a lot of these guys would be getting jobs as cab drivers, if we want to figure out where they're going, we should try and get in a cab with one. And if this was enough to attract their attention before, it should be now, too."

He thrust his hand out into the street. A taxi zoomed up. Jack clapped the Doctor on the shoulder and threw open the door of the cab.

"Excellent timing. Here, ladies first."

As Amy climbed in the cab, she couldn't help but compare Jack's chivalric campiness to the Doctor's bitter sarcasm in regards to the opposite sex. The Doctor slid in next to her, and Jack jumped in the front seat with the driver.

"Hello, good sir. We would like to go to the Mayor's Masquerade Ball!"

The driver turned to them and tore off his sunglasses with a hiss. Sure enough, he was another sickly humanoid alien, complete with the jagged teeth and nails that Amy was still sporting a great deal of pain from. Actually, the pain was starting to fade, but only because her arm was starting to go numb. This was not a good sign, she thought, glancing at the stained gauze wrapped around her increasingly limp arm. Nonetheless, as before, said alien had clearly known his passengers by the sonic screwdriver, for his response was as such:

"Ach, sss, never, Doctor!"

Jack pulled an amazingly futuristic gun out of his giant coat and pressed it to the Driver's head. Amy couldn't help but gasp. It resembled the sonic screwdriver, but was far more dangerous looking.

"That's what we thought you would say. However, we would still like to go, so you're going to take us there. Since I know you're probably also heading the same way, think of it as carpooling."

The Doctor, not wanting to be left out of the fun, rammed the sonic screwdriver through the fare window and pressed it to the alien's neck. Jack rolled his eyes.

"Doctor, with my sonic blaster, I really don't think we need the added help of your little plaything. No offense."

"That's what that is? A sonic blaster? Why don't we have one of those, Doctor? They look handy."

"That looks handy? What's handier than a screwdriver? This can do anything. That's really only good for killing people. Hardly good for multitasking."

Horns started blaring behind them, accompanied by a chorus of angry voices. They had been stopped at the curb for quite a long time. Jack tightened his grip on the trigger and pressed it tighter against their driver's temple.

"Go on, drive. You're the one who should be keen not to blow your cover. Take us where we need to go."

The driver hissed at him but followed his orders. The cab edged slowly into gear and turned from Bleecker onto Sixth Avenue. Here, crowds were gathered waiting for the annual Greenwich Village Halloween Parade to head north from its starting point at Spring Street. A cop hailed them and gestured for them to pull over. Jack and the Doctor moved their suspicious looking gear to more hidden but still dangerous positions as their driver rolled down the window and put on an air of false acquiescence.

"Yes, sir? Ssss…"

"You can't drive down this street, it's closed off for the parade."

Jack and the Doctor both stared at him as though he was crazy. Parades, when the fate of the city was at stake? Amy just craned her neck forward, trying to see if New York City parades were as epic as they appeared on television.

Ten minutes of fruitless arguing with the NYPD later, the three of them were herding their hostage out of the cab and into the path of the parade. "Ach, ssss, the Soho Grand." The alien finally sputtered, after much prodding with various sonic devices and a nice smack upside the head after spitting in the Doctor's face.

"You sure you're not lying to us about that?" The Doctor said. "Ach, no…you can walk there from here." The alien hissed viciously. "Can I go now?" "Not a chance," said Jack. 'We don't want you alerting your precious Captain that we know what's going on."

A throaty growl began in the alien's throat. He lunged outward and bit Jack with his disgusting teeth. Before Jack had time to react, the Doctor had snatched the sonic blaster from his hand and fired. The alien fell to the ground, dead. Jack massaged his sore neck, which now had cuts that were swelling with the same nasty look as Amy's arm.

"Thanks, Doctor. But, you know, it was hardly necessary."

"Just because you can't die doesn't mean I can't spare you the agony of having your throat torn out. Besides, he could have gone for Amy next, and she doesn't share your…gift."

"Gift? More like a curse," Jack grumbled. It was the first time he had seemed to lose his confident swagger, and Amy took note.

They rolled the unlucky taxi driver to the corner of a building, arranging him like a sleeping homeless man. With the festivities raging around them as the drums and music of the parade drew towards Bleecker, no one was the wiser.

Amy was still in shock at having seen the Doctor dispatch a living thing with so little thought, but as the Doctor explained to her, "I avoid killing at all costs. But sometimes, it's necessary. When my friends' lives are in danger, it's necessary." Amy thought about what he had said, though, about Jack not being able to die. Who exactly was Captain Jack Harkness? He seemed as enigmatic and possibly as nonhuman as the Doctor.

They wormed their way through the crowds gathered at the barricades at the edge of the parade route. A gang of zany, futuristic creatures covered in sparkly body pant and on stilts were leading the charge up Sixth Avenue, to the beat of a dozen drums being hammered by men dressed as circus performers.

"What exactly are those costumes supposed to be, do you think?" Amy pointed at the stilts-creatures to the Doctor. "They almost look like they could be aliens too, don't they?"

"They do look an awful lot like the Morgonic race from the Second Lyrian star system, but if that's the look they were going for they totally go the antennae wrong. The genuine article don't have fuzzy-feely-bopper-things on the ends." He turned to Jack. "Do you know where the Soho Grand is?"

"Of course I do. I'm Captain Jack Harkness. I can tell you what their signature cocktail is, how much it costs, and how many a rich heiress will need to drink before she—"

"Alright, that's enough, we get the picture. God, immortality has turned you into such a hedonist!"

"All the time in the world, my friend. Might as well enjoy it."

And with that, Captain Jack leapt into the fray of the parade. "Come on! Anyone can march in the parade! We'll just be heading in the opposite direction! It'll be easier than walking through the crowds watching."

Amy didn't hesitate. She jumped over the barricade and took in her surroundings, wide-eyed. In the midst of the alien threat and her numbing arm, she couldn't help but laugh as a glittery streamer whizzed past her face. The ribbon dancer who was twirling it was a lithe young man wearing quite a bit of makeup and not very much else. He smiled at her, then looked over her shoulder and winked saucily. Amy, slightly insulted, turned to see Jack tipping his hat to the man. No, still can't figure him out, she thought.

After tripping over several ribbons and dancers to get to them, the Doctor joined them. They began to head south down the parade route, struggling through paper-mache floats of increasing magnificence and marchers and dancers of every costume and otherwise elaborate get-up imaginable. The Doctor waved the sonic screwdriver lightly through the air.

'We are picking up a few signs of nonhuman life. "

"So some of these guys might not just look alien?" Amy joked.

"It's New York City. All types can find a niche here. And Halloween is the best time for letting your true colors show." Jack said, eying almost every passerby suspiciously (and a few rather lecherously). "It's both wonderfully liberating and slightly terrifying."

He rubbed his neck and removed his hand. It was spotted with blood and other less than appetizing fluid. The teeth marks were swelling up much like Amy's arm.

"What is it in those guys teeth that causes this kind of reaction?" Jack wondered aloud. "It's a similar derivative to that found in rattlesnake venom." The Doctor volunteered.

"How do you know this? You didn't even know who they were until we followed them and they basically announced it to us," Amy retorted. "Amy, I'm the Doctor. I know paralytic venom when I see it."

Jack stopped. "Paralytic venom? Am I going to be paralyzed? For all eternity?"

The Doctor prodded Jack's neck none too gently with the screwdriver, causing him to gasp in pain. "You might lose all feeling and control of your neck within a few hours, but eventually it'll wear off and you'll be fine. From my observations of Amy's arm, Glaurungian venom appears to be a relatively weak solution."

"Oh, relatively weak. That's easy for you to say, Doctor. You don't have it coursing through your veins."

The trio left the bright, colorful wonderland of the parade route and turned onto Canal Street. Amy was sad to leave the parade behind; if it had been an ordinary Halloween, she would have loved to have marched in it, to simply let loose and enjoy herself with the human population of New York. Yet that was not to be the case. Of course, as long as she stuck with the doctor, she could easily redo a New York Halloween anytime she wanted. How long was she going to stick with him, anyways? She hadn't really thought about it. But now was clearly not the time.

Amy brought herself back to the present, for that is where her brain was truly needed right now. The block ahead was filled with limos and other luxurious vehicles pulling up to the hotel ahead. It was crawling with police and other types of security. The hotel itself loomed above them, lit in warm welcoming yellows. Camera flashes went off as photographers grabbed snapshots of the most important guests. Amy leaned over to the Doctor and whispered.

"If we survive all of this, we are so staying here tonight."

Jack leaned over. "Can I join in?"

The Doctor shoved him out of the way and marched with all the confidence of a high-ranking government official to the front doors of the Soho Grand. For indeed, that was probably what he was going to have to convince the guard they were. The guard, a stern man in a uniform that looked like it cost more than a year of his salary, looked the trio up and down. With Amy's youth (and the Doctor's appearance of it) and the various injuries sported by the gang, it would not have been an easy task for an ordinary individual.

Fortunately, the Doctor was not an ordinary individual. And he had an equally extraordinary bag of tricks up his sleeve. He pulled the psychic paper from his coat pocket and flipped it open.

"Hello, I am the Doctor. As in the Mayor's personal doctor. This is Captain Jack Harkness of the US Marines. He just got back from your Iraq War so he's here as my guest—a true American hero. You wouldn't turn way a true American hero, would you?

Jack straightened to his full height and stuck out his broad chest. If anyone looked like the picture-perfect stereotypical hero, it was him. Even wearing a silly pirate hat.

"Alright sir. Thank you for your service to our country. It's an honor. But who is this?"

He furrowed his brow at Amy. Amy opened her mouth, but Jack beat her to it. "This is my wife, Amelia Harkness. The day I set foot back in this country, I married her. That was last week. We're newlyweds. You can tell by all of our smoking-hot physical chemistry."

He squeezed Amy's shoulder. Amy smiled awkwardly and waved. "Hi! This is my husband!" That familiar twinge of guilt that sprang up in her throat when she thought of husbands and marriage returned for a moment, but once again she forced it down.

The guard examined the psychic papers put before him. "Everything seems in order. Enjoy the party!"

He threw open the door for them. The Doctor, Jack and Amy hustled inside before the paparazzi could decide whether or not they were of importance. The first near-impossible task of the evening was a success. The Doctor rubbed his hands together.

"Okay, now it's time for us to join the party."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Madhouse Ballroom

Amy Pond was dancing in a beautiful ballroom, with a gold-laced ceiling, crystal chandeliers, and candelabras with tall dripping tapers. She had been handed a small black mask by a doorman at the entrance to the ballroom and ushered onto the dance floor by Jack, his hand on the small of her back. The Doctor grabbed a mask, held it to his face and examined his reflection in a mirror before removing it and using it to gesture while he talked.

"Right. I am going to locate our host and try to inform him of the situation at hand. The two of you, keep an eye out on the dance floor for anyone particularly…I don't know, green."

Amy opened her mouth to protest—wherever the Doctor was going, she wanted to go too. But he had scampered away before she could utter a syllable. She turned to Jack, who simply shrugged and said, "He does that." Then he bowed and held out a hand. "May I have this dance?"

So that was how, on Halloween, Amy came to be waltzing in the ballroom of the Soho Grand in New York City with a man she had never met before, who apparently couldn't die. However, he could dance quite well. Better than Amy, who kept stepping on his feet.

"Oops, sorry. Haven't had many occasions to waltz before."

"It's alright. I've had decades of experience."

"Yeah, exactly how old are you? And where are you from? And why can't you die?"

"Whoa, slow down," Jack laughed. "Besides, tonight isn't about me, it's about keeping some angry aliens from torching Manhattan. Much more important than little old me. And I am quite old."

He dipped Amy down low and smiled that devilish smile before abruptly pulling her up again. Their faces were barely inches apart and since Amy figured she knew by now how his mind worked, she let her voice drop to a seductive whisper as she leaned even closer. "Well, I don't see any of those aliens right now. I only see you. So explain, please."

Jack spun her out and back in again as the music abruptly changed tempos…speeding up into a saucy tango. He stroked her hair, then laughed as they continued to dance. Or rather, as he continued to throw her around the dance floor to the beat of the music, while she tried to keep up the best she could. He grabbed her by both shoulders.

"I don't have to explain anything to you. But I like the fact that you think I do. So much that if you were to maybe sneak off with me after we get all the nasty fighting aliens business out of the way, I would feel like a very lucky man."

Amy laughed as he pulled her close again, nearly falling over. "That's sorely tempting, Jack…but I'm taken."

"What, you too?"

"What do you mean, you too?"

"Oh, you know…infatuated with the Doctor. It'll never go anywhere, you know."

Amy turned red…who were all these other people everyone kept referencing? The Doctor was clearly keeping a great deal more of his past under wraps than she thought. Jack began swiveling his hips. Amy attempted to mimic his movements, but she just looked like an awkward kid trying to use a hula-hoop.

"That's fine, because the Doctor is not who I was referring to."

"Oh really? Does this mysterious other man…or woman…"

"Man!"

"This man…does he know where you are right now?"

Amy was starting to feel ill. It could have been her head spinning from the dancing or the cosmopolitan she'd had at the bar…or it could have been her worrying about Rory. What would he say if he knew where she was right now? Of course, they were supposed to be married by now…maybe she was home, with him, being a good wife. Rory had always wanted to come to New York City…should they have stopped off and asked him along? Is that what a good wife would have done?

Amy staggered slightly. The nausea was wracking her body. Worse of all, she couldn't even lift her wounded arm. It hung dead at her side.

Jack stopped dancing to grab her and hold her up. 'You okay? I didn't mean to pry…"

"It's alright, I was doing the exact same thing to you. It's no more than I deserve. But I actually don't think that's it."

Jack looked at her pale face, then at her wounded arm. His hand automatically went to his own neck, then his eyes widened.

"It's that Glaurungian venom…dammit! Where's a doctor when you need one?"

The Doctor in question was at that moment rushing down corridors flashing his ID at anyone who passed, shouting, "Medical emergency! Doctor in the house! Where's the Mayor?" He was stopped at the end of the hallway by a couple of security guards.

"Hi, I need to see the mayor. I'm his Doctor… he's feeling ill, too much Halloween candy, sugar-induced dizziness and possible diabetic coma…"

While he rambled, the guards patted him down, finding his toy holster and fake pistols. They drew guns from holsters. The Doctor grinned. 

"It's alright, they're just toys, look here."

He pulled one out with a flourish, like a cowboy drawing for a duel, and was promptly slammed against the wall and pinned by an arm nearly as big as his narrow waist. He dropped the toy pistol and the guard stomped it with his massive foot. It shattered into powder.

"See, told you it was fake, it's made of a graphite compound, not dangerous at all…" he admonished, but the coast wasn't clear yet. The other guard had found the sonic screwdriver. He pressed a random button to investigate and jumped as it whirred to life.

"Well, this looks a little more dangerous…"

"Hey, watch it! That's fragile machinery!"

He tried to snatch it out of the giant man's hand but was promptly knocked backwards again. One guard held him down while the other examined the silvery, glowing device.

"This doesn't look like any medical equipment I've ever seen…"

As the guard examined the screwdriver, he held it close to his eye…a little too close. The Doctor winced in anticipation.

"That's not a good idea—"

A huge ultraviolet flash burst out from the end. The guard dropped it abruptly as his hands flew to his face, screaming, "I'm blind! I'm blind!"

The Doctor ducked under the other guard's arm, scooped up the screwdriver from the floor, and pointed it at the door. It flew open in the most dramatic nature possible. Inside, the Mayor stood with his wife, surrounded by assistants and other handlers, as she tied his bow tie. The Doctor strode into the room, coat flaring out behind him.

"Mayor, you're under attack. You and this entire city are under attack. You need to listen to everything I say."

"Oh, do I? Who are you? And how did you get in here?"

Just then, the non-blinded guard tackled the Doctor to the ground and wrenched the sonic screwdriver from his hand. He handed it to the Mayor, who turned it over while the Doctor watched from the ground. He looked at him.

"This is alien technology, isn't it?"

The Doctor paused, reluctant to answer.

"Okay, it is, but I am not the alien you need to be worrying about right now. Have you heard of the Glaurungian Empire?"

The Mayor's head whipped around in shock and recognition. The Doctor smirked.

"That's what I thought. They haven't left. In fact, they are on their way here right now, and none too pleased about the way you treated them before. They'll use whatever technology you have to finally contact their flagship, and when it arrives…well, I'll be the last alien on your mind."

The Mayor strode over to the captive Doctor and stared him in the same way, neither man wavering. "Who exactly are you?"

The Doctor wriggled out of his captor's arms, and smoothed his hair before readjusting his hat at a jaunty angle.

"I'm the Doctor. And I'm here to help you save your city."

Outside, a series of cabs had pulled up. From one emerged the alien Captain, dressed as Frankenstein's monster and having all the menace necessary to pull it off without looking stupid. Lieutenant Arog, Brodda, and Grog got out of another. More and more green people were slamming cab doors and approaching the hotel with looks of pure determination and destruction in their eyes. The Captain flashed his own psychic paper at the guard.

On the dance floor, Jack and Amy were trying their best to think of a way to get the venom out of their bloodstream. Jack was dancing around like Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance, kicking and jumping energetically though without moving his paralyzed neck at all whatsoever. Several sophisticated partygoers eyed his exertions through their masks. One wayward leg accidentally knocked a silver tray of some kind of foreign hors d'oeuvre to the ground, causing the skinny waiter holding it to stalk away in a fuss. Amy clutched her limp arm and hissed at Jack.

"What are you doing? We don't need to draw any more attention to ourselves!"

"If we keep moving and keep breathing, our blood will stay oxygenated and keep pumping and the venom will weaken faster." Jack said.

"That sounds like a load of—"

Amy paused, then ran to the bar.

"A cosmopolitan please. Two."

The bartender got to work, albeit a little too slowly for Amy taste. She rapped her fingertips on the bar rhythmically. Jack danced his way over, keeping up his frenetic movements as he spoke.

Getting drunk isn't going to solve anything either, thought at this point it is rather appealing. If Manhattan is going to explode, I might as well be inebriated."

Amy turned to him and handed hi one of the pink cocktails. Jack wrinkled his nose in distaste at the feminine beverage. Amy explained.

"The alcohol will go straight into our bloodstream too, right? Maybe the drinks will filter out some of the poison and keep it from growing too strong."

"Jack stared at her. "That's brilliant. But couldn't you have picked a drink that was a little more androgynous? My masculinity is in a crisis."

Amy clinked glasses and downed hers. "You're welcome."

Jack finished his drink, then narrowed his eyes. He grabbed Amy's arm and nodded subtly towards the door of the ballroom. Amy looked over her shoulder to see the green Glaurungian entourage enter and filter throughout the unsuspecting guests. She turned back to Jack.

'We're going to need more drinks."

Back in the Mayor's suite, the Doctor and him were conferring bout the situation at hand, though the Doctor still had not received his sonic screwdriver back. The temporarily blinded guard was fine now, but he held onto the weapon with one hand and the nape of the Doctor's neck with the other, squeezing it whenever the Doctor grew a little too feisty. Which was often, considering the danger they were in.

"Like I was saying, what was your reason for not contacting any known authorities on extraterrestrial matters? Like Torchwood Institute? Or, um, me. You have heard of me, right?"

"I've heard of you, Doctor. I've heard that death and destruction follow you wherever you go in time or space. I wanted to spare my people another intergalactic conflict."

"Bringing negotiators in then would have saved time. Now you have an even bigger conflict on your hands and less time and resources to mend it!" The guard squeezed his neck, as his voice grew angrier. The Doctor yelped. "Oow! Give me a break!"

The Mayor glared at him. "New Yorkers have been through so much in the past decade. I wanted to spare them more fear, more panic, more distress about an unseen and unknown enemy."

The Doctor He turned back to the Mayor. "We need to stop this ball. Immediately."

"The Mayor grew uneasy. "People will assume it's a terrorist attack. Gossip will spread like wildfire. The entire city will be in an uproar, a panic."

The Doctor leaned in close, his voice low but intense. 

"Mayor, this IS a terrorist attack. So what are you going to do about it?"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: A Smashing Good Party

Amy Pond was getting progressively more inebriated. However, on the plus side, she was regaining more and more feeling in her poisoned arm. Upon clumsily unwrapping her bandages, she noticed that the cuts were no longer oozing that unsavory pus-like substance. She showed them to Jack, nearly falling into his arms.

"Look! You were right! It's getting better!"

Jack swayed, drank another glass of whiskey, and cracked his own rapidly healing neck for good measure. "Course I'm right. I'm ALWAYS right. Someone ought to tell the precious Doctor that."

Amy cooed and pinched his cheek. "Aww, is the alcohol causing little Jacky boy to divulge his true feelings?"

Jack straightened up and readjusted his hat in a last-ditch effort to save his manliness.  
"Course not. Captain Jack doesn't tell his feelings to anyone. When he does…" His voice degenerated into a mumble, but Amy could have sworn he had said something along the lines of, "Bad things happen."

Amy wanted to learn more about what could possibly have crushed the soul of a man as confident as Captain Jack, but at that moment, even in her state of drunkenness, she knew there were way bigger fish to fry. Those fish were the Glaurungian warriors currently filtering through the crowd, their costumes rendering them totally inconspicuous to the regular partygoers (though it's worth noting that the party had been in full swing and the pricy champagne flowing freely for long enough that much would pass their notice). However, the sunglasses indoors and the green skin were a dead giveaway to Amy, who in her rater drunken state grabbed Jack by the lapels and pointed wobbly at the Captain, flanked by Brodda, Arog, and Grug. This gesture did not do the pair any additional harm in getting noticed; nonetheless, Amy did not want them to come any closer in case they recognized the smell of her blood. Her arm was no longer oozing, but what did she known about Glaurungians? That might not make a difference; they seemed to have the sniffers of bloodhounds, with none of that species' cuteness factor.

As the aliens rapidly strode towards them, Jack looked upward as though trying to find an answer in the ceiling. He did find one, of sorts, as one of the many elaborate crystal chandeliers caught his eye with a twinkle and a flash of light. He didn't hesitate—he pulled out the sonic blaster and fired straight up at the ornamental chain suspending the chandelier from the ceiling. It broke with a snap and, almost in slow motion, the structure cam crashing down. Jack grabbed Amy and dove with her to the floor, screaming "DUCK!"

The trio of aliens looked up. The Captain immediately began shoving partygoers out of the way, but in doing so pushed Grug right in the path of the chandelier. Brodda and Arog clutched each other and also dove aside in time, leaving Grug to stare straight up into the plummeting crystal weapon. He erupted in one final vicious hiss just as he was crushed to the ground.

Amy gasped and closed her eyes. Grug may have wanted to flatten New York and kill millions but he was also the third living creature she had seen die today, and it wasn't growing any easier for her to witness. Yet when she opened her eyes again, a far better sight than crushed corpses greeted her.

The Mayor and his entourage, accompanied by the Doctor with his usual swagger, threw open the doors to the ballroom and entered.

"I'm very sorry everyone, but we're going to have to cancel the remainder of this year's ball. I'm feeling very ill, and…"

The Mayor's voice trailed off as he noticed the carnage. The Doctor was quicker on his feet.

"And the ballroom, it turns out, despite all the gold furnishings and nifty crystal, is in dreadful disrepair. Things are bound to fall apart at any moment, especially from that crumbling…"

He looked up at the spotless, well-maintained ceiling, whose only fault was the hole created when the chandelier dropped for no discernable reason. He raised his eyebrows at Jack, who shrugged sheepishly and tried to slide the gun back into his large coat. Then, with a subtle movement of the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor followed his lead and loosened another, even larger chandelier. This time everyone managed to worm their way out of it's path before it hit the ground, though flying glass shards exploded outwards and nicked several partygoers on the arms, including Amy. She rolled her eyes; just when she thought her injuries were healing…she'd be lucky to make it alive to her wedding at this rate.

The Doctor didn't hesitate to calm anyone down over the fact that one of New York's finest and most famous hotels was crumbling around them all for no apparent reason. That was not his priority at that moment.

"Anyways, everyone go! Shoo, now!"

The elite class of New York society was incredibly dismayed at being told to shoo like disobedient children, by an awkward man who they had never seen before, in a cheap costume that must have been bought at a shop rather than custom made-and an English man at that! This was America! Americans told foreigners what to do on their own soil! With a great deal of insulted muttering, they began to gather their designer purses and fur capes and shuffle out to meet their chauffeurs, though not without shooting daggers at the nervous Mayor and the angry, determined Doctor as they passed. One man hissed, "Page Six will hear about this in the morning, sir, trust me."

The Doctor rolled his eyes and lowered his voice, though losing none of his attitude of superiority in the process. "Well, SIR, if you don't get out of here right now and let us take care of the situation there might not BE a Page Six in the morning. Please go."

The man gasped, muttered something about bitterness over the results of the American Revolution, and led his over-bleached, over-Botoxed wife out. Amy couldn't help but noticed that all of her plastic surgery had made her look almost as alien as a Glaurungian, and definitely more alien than the Doctor, who keep readjusting his fedora and even winked at his reflection in a mirror. Amy had a feeling he was going to keep that part of the costume permanently.

As the human partygoers filed out of the room several beings remained—all green-skinned and wearing sunglasses and Halloween costumes of varying sorts—everything from the easily predictable witches to the crocodile from Peter Pan, who was carrying a clock in his claw like he wanted to smash the Doctor's face open with it. The Captain stood in their midst. Upon the last of the civilians' exits, he removed his glasses. If possible, the pits where his eyes should have been had grown ever darker and deeper. Amy felt as though they could swallow her up like a black hole and crush her into dust; such was the power and menace that radiated from them. Jack kept his hand protectively on her back, a gesture that normally would have offended such a self-sufficient woman, but under these circumstances was rather pleasant. This also could have been because it was Jack's hand…his large, perfectly manly hand…Amy staggered a little and shook her head. Definitely too much to drink.

The Captain sniffed the air. "Ach, I know the smell of that blood…" He growled throatily. He strode towards Amy and Jack but was stopped but another chandelier crashing to the ground directly in his path.

'Don't you dare touch either of them." The Doctor sneered, wielding the sonic screwdriver as he came up behind the Captain and held it to the back of his neck. The Captain remained still except for a few shakes of the shoulders and barks that Amy could only guess must be Glaurungian laughter.

"Sss…Doctor, I know what your tool is capable of doing, and trust me, I can do more damage to you with my bare fists…or my teeth."

"But you won't, Captain. And you want to know why?"

The Doctor circled around him, still pointing the screwdriver at him all the while.

"Because I'm going to help you get what you want. And what you want isn't to destroy New York City, and to kill thousands of humans, and cause unnecessary bloodshed…what you want is to get home. Homesickness…loneliness…being stranded in a world that is not your own…I understand these feelings, Captain. Believe me, I do."

The Captain's steely gaze didn't soften, but it did seem to radiate less thirst for human blood. Well, slightly less. It was less dying of dehydration and more plain desire for a sip.

The Mayor nodded his head. With a whistle from one of his trusty guards, the room filled with armed security. The Mayor began to speak.

"In ten minutes I will have representatives from the UN Security Council here for negotiations. In a matter of hours I will have similar authorities from NASA. They will take you to the necessary location where you can board a small craft and head for home. You will only be able to contact your home planet or mother ship once you are out of Earth's orbit. We will help you get away from here…but only if you promise never to come back with any of your fellows."

The Captain barked again. "And why should we believe you, human ssscum! You and your Doctor, the weakest-hearted man in the galaxy! He'd sacrifice his own race if it meant his precious humans could keep going on living their ignorant ape lives…actually, he already has, hasn't he?

The Doctor narrowed his eyes and squeezed a button on the screwdriver. Another blinding flash of light illuminated the room. Amy shrieked "Doctor, no! Don't listen to him!"

The Captain shrieked in agony and fell to the ground, writhing. The other Glaurungians who still wore their sunglasses were startled but not injured. Nonetheless, they jumped to the aid of their Captain. Brodda and Arog leapt through the air acrobatically, using their long tongues and outstretched claws for balance. Jack moved and caught Brodda in his arms. She hissed and growled. Jack looked her up and down with a tipsy, lecherous grin.

"Come on, lady, most females have a much more pleased reaction to fall into the arms of Captain Jack."

Brodda tried to bite him but stopped when the sonic blaster appeared before her. Jack grinned.

"That's right, we save that kind of behavior for the bedroom on this planet."

Arog, meanwhile, had been pinned down by several of the Mayor's security team, but when he heard Jack's advances towards his partner, began to squirm and snap like a snake. He succeeded in biting one guard on the ear, who screamed wildly and smacked Arog across the face, before clutching the injured body part and moaning, "Is it still there? I can't feel it!" Brodda hissed and attempted to escape Jack's arms, but despite his inebriation he was able to keep a tight grip on her. Instead, a few more costumed Glaurungian soldiers jumped into the fray. Teeth and claws and legs and fists were a tangled blur rolling around the center of the ballroom. The Doctor kept his screwdriver on the Captain, who continued to lie on the ground covering his temporarily blinded eyes.

Amy didn't now what to do to aid in such a dogfight. She grabbed a bottle of expensive champagne (that she was sure costs more than her entire year's salary as Leadworth's most popular Kiss-o-gram), and broke it on her knee, screaming in pain.

"God, that looks so much easier in the movies!"

She then charged at the group screaming like a banshee. The men and aliens were so astonished at the sight before them that they momentarily stopped fighting—just long enough for the Doctor to loosen yet another chandelier and scatter them all to various corners of the ballroom.

The Mayor sighed in exasperation. 'You realize that these repairs will probably have to come out of tax payer dollars, don't you?"

"Well, the cost of pasting up a few more chandeliers is nothing compared to rebuilding the whole city. Now, Captain…"

The Doctor crouched down before him. He lifted his noble head and stared at him.

"The American government did a very bad thing to your people. I may be partial to humanity, especially having them for company on my travels, but I by no means condone this kind of insensitive, ethnocentric and just plain STUPID…"

He eyed the Mayor, whose face reddened. Several of his security detail tightened their grips on their weapons. The Doctor cleared his throat and continued.

"…Behavior. The standard protocol for such situations is to contact an expert in the field, such as myself or Captain Jack here, to supervise negotiations while still keeping the general public safe and unaware. However, I'd say giving them a chance to redeem themselves and get you home is much more important than starting an intergalactic war."

The concierge of the hotel chose that moment to step into the room.

"Mayor, sir, there are some reps from the UN here to see you…"

He let his eyes scan the room, noticed the downed chandeliers, the dead and injured bodies, the aliens in foolish costumes, and Amy Pond dressed as a flapper holding a broken Dom Perignon bottle. He swayed slightly, gasped, and bit his hand to restrain panicked tears. He uttered only one phrase—"Not the Swarovski crystal"- and promptly fainted. The Captain and his fellow Glaurungians laughed. Their off-putting barking echoed off of the gold-laced walls. The Doctor exchanged quizzical looks with Jack and Amy. The Captain pried himself off of the floor and addressed the room.

"I will speak to these human ambassadors…but I will only agree to their demands I they agree to mine."

"Which are?"

"I want enough shuttles, fuel, and supplies to get my crew safely to the Glaurungian mother ship, if not to our home planet. I want a signed agreement from human government that this will never happen again, to us or any other race. And lastly…"

With this his thin lips curled up into a terrifying smile.

"The Glaurungian Empire is currently at war in our sector of space. However, if the battle seeps through into your galaxy…I want an alliance with Earth. Or at least an agreement not to interfere with our affairs. You will either support us or remain silent; if you dare oppose us, blood will be shed on your side, and we will finally have the proper, traditional repayment for our mistreatment and dishonor."

The room became deadly silent. Amy kept her grip on the neck of her broken bottle and looked from the Doctor to the Mayor to the Glaurungian Captain, waiting for someone to make a move or say a word. The Mayor made the first move.

"I agree."

The Doctor looked at him, slightly astonished. 'What?"

The mayor walked over to the Glaurungian Captain and hesitated, before gingerly extending his hand. His men all cocked their weapons in anticipation of an attack. The Glaurungian warriors sharpened their claws and licked their lips with their long tongues. The Mayor spoke again.

"I am willing to do whatever it takes to right this wrong and protect the people of New York. If this is what it takes to do it, then so be it. You have my word. I'll get the UN to supervise and arrange the signing of a treaty."

The Glaurungian Captain grinned widely to showcase each of his pointy yellow teeth and promptly shook hands with the Mayor, nearly yanking his arm out of the socket through brute strength. The Doctor went pale and approached them.

"You're sure this is the best decision…you could end up involving not just your city, your country, but the entire planet in a massive intergalactic war."

"I'll take my chances, right now."

The Doctor shrugged and looked at Jack, who released Brodda. She ran over to Arog and embraced him curiously, their long tongues reaching out and wrapping around each other's ears. Several of the human guards looked on in equal parts disgust and curiosity, while Jack approached the Doctor and Amy.

"I need to have some words with the Mayor and the UN, regarding Torchwood. I think it's best they have me on hand to supervise this agreement, for better or for worst. I'll see you both later."

He winked at Amy, and then swooped in to dip her and kiss her. Amy's eyes widened and she pushed him away.

"Your face is the same color as your hair again." The Doctor noted. "I tend to have that effect on women…well, people…well, actually, living things." Jack smirked. "So I've noticed," said the Doctor dryly, before breaking out into an irrepressible grin and giving Jack a brotherly smack on the back. "Good fighting alongside you again, old friend."

Jack tipped his pirate hat to him one last time before straightening up into a respectful salute. "As always, Doctor." He then strode back into the room and closed the door behind him.

Amy smiled at the Doctor. "You love him!"

The Doctor reddened. Amy crowed with laughter. "See, he turns your face the color of my hair too!" She continued to giggle, then nearly tipped over onto the pavement. "Whoops."

The Doctor put his arm around her to hold her up as they walked. "Too much to drink tonight?"

"A little bit. Just a wee, tiny, little bit."

"Oh, Amy…come on, it's bedtime. And after the events of this evening, I think the Soho Grand is out of the question for a hotel."

They stumbled off into the dark, their figures backlit by the eerie orange-tinted streetlights of Manhattan.


	7. Epilogue

Epilogue: An American Pastime

Amy Pond was standing on the roof of the Empire State Building at sunset, but it wasn't any long-missed romantic encounter that she was waiting for. As she basked in the peacefulness of the city's sparkling metallic horizon when it WASN'T being threatened by aliens, she smiled and looked down at the two hefty Saks Fifth Avenue bags at her side—it's amazing what one could afford when you have a sonic screwdriver to magic all necessary currency out of any ATM machine.

She had recovered from the previous night's adventures with a lovely long sleep in at the Ritz-Carlton; the Soho Grand was clearly not an option since months of repairs were now going to be necessary, but the Doctor was still a creature of his word. He shelled out for two luxury suites at an equally nice hotel, complete with hot tubs and those lovely tiny complementary bottles of bubble bath that Rory hoarded every time they managed to stay at a nice bed-and-breakfast on holiday. She made sure to throw as many in her bag for him as possible, and figured that explaining their origin was an issue she'd deal with when she got to it.

Afterwards, they had a lovely sightseeing tour, complete with the Statue of Liberty, Rockefeller Center, and Central Park. Amy had lain on the grass in the park and let the autumn leaves tumble down onto her face, and at that moment felt that she had really had the best New York experience a girl could hope for. The Doctor had then left her to go track down the TARDIS while she got to do her long-awaited shopping…which was fine, as she didn't need any fashion advice from a man who's pants fit that poorly anyways.

Amy was picturing the Doctor trying to communicate with the snobby clerks at the Chanel counter, but was broken out of said amusing reverie as a familiar mechanical wheezing and whirring began to grow louder and louder.

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS and joined her. Amy grinned at him. "Have fun in the Bronx?"

"Actually, I stopped off for a Yankees-Red Sox game."

"What? Without me?"

"How could I pass up the opportunity to witness a sports rivalry as infamous as that of Time Lord and Dalek? Besides, I brought you a present."

He whipped out a giant foam finger emblazoned with the Yankees logo. Amy looked at it, then back at him in disbelief, before dissolving into laughter. She smacked him on the head with it playfully.

"I think I've had enough of New York for one sitting, Doctor. Can we go someplace exotic now? Someplace full of those dangerous mind-controlling aliens, perhaps?"

"Hmm, I would have thought you'd have had your fill of dangerous aliens after last night too."

"True. Still, I want to see a planet. Show me a planet! One that's not my own."

The Doctor stepped over to the TARDIS and opened the door with a flourish and a bow.

"One planet, right up. But first, I have a stop to make."

Amy groaned. "It better not be another sports match…"

"Hey, Amelia, I don't know if anyone has told you the truth, but shopping is NOT the Great American Pastime. That would be the great sport of baseball! Don't knock it!"

As they went to board the TARDIS, Amy looked around to take one last mental photograph of the midtown Manhattan skyline—and realized someone was missing,.

"Where's Captain Jack? I never even got to say an official, sober goodbye…or thank you...or anything!"

The Doctor sighed. "Captain Jack has a few things to take care of, in regards to setting up an American branch of Torchwood. Don't worry though, I'm sure we'll see his pretty face again in no time."

"Doctor! How superficial do you think I am?"

Their banter and light-hearted insults continued even as the TARDIS door shut and, with another whirr and a rumble, dissolved into the crisp night air, with only the battered ceiling of the Soho Grand downtown remaining as a sign that they were ever there.


End file.
